


Shall I Compare Thee... (you know the rest)

by afewreelthoughts



Series: My Words Will Be Your Light [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Oral Sex, Outdoor Sex, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-11-06 00:53:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17929679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afewreelthoughts/pseuds/afewreelthoughts
Summary: Leonette had stolen a kiss from Ser Garlan Tyrell when he first arrived at Cider Hall for the tourney there, and every day he stayed bought them more stolen time. This was a mere summer courtship, after all, and she would enjoy it.





	Shall I Compare Thee... (you know the rest)

**Author's Note:**

> ASOIAF Rare Pair Week, Day 3: Summer // Winter
> 
> I own nothing and make no money from this. Everything belongs to George R.R. Martin.

“I think this will be my last tourney for a while,” Garlan said. 

 

Leonette plucked the leaves off of another wildflower and began to weave it into Garlan Tyrell’s curls. They sat in the shade at the very edge of the Fossoway orchards, his head in her lap. It seemed to her, on that sunny afternoon, as though this summer might last forever. 

 

“Why?” she asked. The tourney fields of Westeros would be emptier without him there. Never in her life had she seen violence so graceful as when Garlan had won the melee. “Wasn’t this one of your first?” 

 

“Yes, Father encouraged me to come, but I don’t enjoy tourneys,” he said. 

 

“Really? A strong, honorable man who doesn’t enjoy tourneys and lets a silly girl braid flowers into his hair?"

 

“I like you. I don’t like dressing up in ribbons and knocking other men off their horses.” He closed his eyes. "Real war is nothing like that.”

 

“Have you ever seen a real battle?”

 

He pouted. “No, but I know wars aren’t fought like that: knights going up against each other individually, with someone enforcing the rules."

 

He grew silent then, and she knew she had struck a nerve. She said nothing about it and plucked another flower from the grass.

 

Three days ago, Leonette had stolen a kiss from Ser Garlan Tyrell, who was visiting Cider Hall for the tourney there. He had gone on to win the joust the next day, and the melee after that, and every day he stayed bought them more stolen time. 

 

Leonette knew her parents would be thrilled at the prospect of a marriage alliance with House Tyrell, which is why she and Garlan kept their tryst hidden. She didn’t want Garlan to marry her out of obligation. This was a mere summer courtship, and she would enjoy it. He would soon have to return home to Highgarden, and she to more serious suits. 

 

But he could be hers for another day, at least. Just one more endlessly happy day. 

 

“I saw the Siege of Storm’s End,” he said. “The very end of it. I remember coming to King’s Landing after Robert’s Rebellion. My father had brought me in case he’d have to offer me as a ward or hostage. I saw the king’s brothers. Stannis looked like a skeleton and Renly was… my age. I remember thinking that we had done that to them. That’s what the siege had done.” 

“That’s very sad,” Leonette said.

 

“I’m sorry. I was just thinking about that...” 

 

“It’s all right. You can tell me sad things.” 

 

Somewhere in the orchard, a bird starting singing, and from farther away, the noises of the archery contest drifted up to them. 

 

“Are we alone?” he asked. 

 

“We’ve been alone all afternoon,” she said and kissed him. She’d kissed Garlan so many times over the past days that by now his lips felt familiar against hers.

 

As the kiss deepened, she lay next to him. Her skirts rucked up against their legs, and she felt his hardness pressing against her thigh. But for a couple layers of fabric, they could easily be… 

 

She sat up, his hands still tangled in her long hair. 

 

"If we did that I wouldn’t be a maid on my wedding night,” she said. 

 

"I wouldn't care,” he said with a smile. 

 

A flush spread from her face down her chest. "Well I wouldn’t have to worry about what  _you_  thought; I’d have to worry about what  _my husband_  thought.”

 

He tilted his head, brown eyes winking golden in the light.

 

“I could ask my father and yours for their permission, if you want,” he said. 

 

Leonette’s heart leaped into her throat. They had spent mere days together. Many highborn girls would consider themselves lucky to have spent so much time with their fiancés before the wedding, much less to have enjoyed that time, but she still knew little about him. Garlan spoke plainly, no songs and poetry, but those plain words might one day turn against her. 

 

"Marriages aren’t about love,” she said. “Not for people like us.” 

 

"We make sense as an alliance, too."

 

“Would your father think so? Or do you know that’s what he’d think because you were sent here to find a wife?"

 

Her chest felt tight. She thought they had been playing and no more, and she liked that. Was this what he’d been plotting all along? Perhaps he didn’t speak as plainly as she thought. 

 

“My father sent me here for the glory of House Tyrell, to convince me to try one tourney, just one, and I did. He’s said nothing to me of a wife. Willas will be lord someday; he needs to wed, I don’t.”

 

Leonette pulled one of the loose flowers from his hair. “I don’t know you.”

 

He sat up. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

 

“What are you sorry for?”

 

“You never said you wanted marriage from me, and I presumed you did.” 

 

Her chest hurt again, this time a keen ache. “You’re trying to be honorable.”

 

The crowd cheered in the distance. 

 

Garlan shifted closer to her. “You know, there is fun we could have that wouldn’t make you not a maid…” 

 

“Or maybe not so honorable?”

 

“Only if you want,” he said and kissed her again. 

 

“They all seem to think you’re so sweet,” she said. “All the girls. And here you are trying to get me to give up my virtue.”

 

He pulled her down with him as he lay in the grass again. “Only if you want to.” His hair made a halo about his head, flowers coming loose from his curls. 

 

Well, they were only playing, after all… 

 

She slipped one hand inside his shirt. The curls on his chest were rough beneath her fingers, and he made a small noise as her fingers skimmed along his collar. She then turned her attention to the laces on his trousers and pulled them open to find that he was hard in his smallclothes. It seemed more chaste, somehow, to touch him through the thin fabric. So she did. 

 

His eyes fluttered closed, and his breathing became heavy, but he let her do what she liked.

 

She brushed her hand along the outline of his cock, wrapped her fingers around it as much as she could, and every time something she did drew a sound from him, she did it again. His hands grabbed fistfuls of grass and wildflowers, and his face flushed like a maid’s. She lowered her mouth and kissed him through his smallclothes, and that was the edge of his control.

 

"Gods,” he gasped and pulled her up to his mouth for a kiss. 

 

She rubbed her thigh against him. He moved his hips against her and held her tight and made small noises into her mouth until he shuddered and bit his lip to keep from crying out. The front of his smallclothes was wet to the touch.

 

She had been told it was a violent thing, when a man came, and watching this was both underwhelming and a taste that made her hungry for more. She wanted more of the sounds he made, more of the look on his face, more of the way he moved against her as if in a frenzy. 

 

“Gods, you’re wonderful,” he said, his chest still heaving. 

 

She brushed his curls from his face. “I’m not sure it’s worth an appeal to the deities.” 

 

He kissed her again, and there was something wicked in his eyes. 

 

"Come here.”

 

“I am here.” 

 

“Here,” he said, and pulled her into his lap. “Stay there.” 

 

He pulled her skirts over his head. 

 

"What are you doing?” She pulled them back. 

 

“I want to make you feel good without any worry of getting you with child.” His face looked boyish and innocent, even hovering on the edge of her skirts. He bit his lip, and she laughed.

 

“What are you going to do?” she said.

 

Her heart was hammering as he pulled her skirts back over his head, unlaced her smallclothes, and moved so that she was sitting closer to… 

 

_Oh gods._  Her first thought was that she had to marry him now. She couldn’t feel this good and then give that feeling up. He moved his tongue against her folds and she felt warmth gathering inside her, the same feeling she brought herself with her hand before she slept, but she was not in control of it now, and it felt glorious. His mouth wrung gasps and cries from her that she kept quiet until he found the bundle of nerves touched when she was alone.

 

“There! Yes, there!” she cried out. “Yes, yes!” 

 

She came harder than she ever had alone.

 

They held each other afterward, the tall grass a curtain around them. Neither of them said anything, because there was nothing that had to be said. The warmth of this afternoon could fade, she didn’t care, because it would always be summer in his arms.


End file.
